


A Sweet Gift

by General_Zargon



Category: Shi ga Futari wo Wakatsu made | Until Death Do Us Part
Genre: Best Teacher Ever, Fluff, Gen, That isn't a bomb, surprise present
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 11:38:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12911145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/General_Zargon/pseuds/General_Zargon
Summary: Jesus, current alias Fujisawa Shingo, had always had a soft spot for kids. Turns out his students have a soft spot for him too.





	A Sweet Gift

**Author's Note:**

> I recently read UDDUP and fell in absolute love with the character of Jesus, legendary hitman and high school teacher. I was shocked there weren't more stories featuring him, so this is my meager contribution towards helping to fix that. :)

There was a box sitting on his desk.

Jesus, legendary hitman and assassin, current alias Fujisawa Shingo, stared at it.

The box continued sitting there, looking as innocent as a box could look.

It wasn't suspicious in and of itself, just a simple cardboard box held shut with some clear tape, and barely as large as his pencil holder, but still. It was a box. On his desk. Fifteen minutes before class was due to start. It was possibly a bomb. It would be easy to just mold some C4 into a small ball, rig the detonator to go off when the box was opened, and boom! He was a smoldering corpse. If someone was going to try and blow him up, it was a pretty good time for it since there wouldn't be anyone else caught in the blast.

Had he pissed off anyone who used bombs lately? He was actually on good terms with Team Blade so he could rule out that Pyro guy, but was there anyone else? He had laid low ever since the thing with Duhana, but you never knew. He thought about it, mentally ticking off the people he knew were dead and/or not in the country. Of course, there were always idiots who wanted to make a name for themselves in the Underworld by taking out a big name, but most of those just went with the old point-and-shoot method. You did occasionally find some cautious ones, however, and bombs were a good way to erase evidence in addition to being harder to trace on the off-chance the target avoided being charred and torn to bits since a lot of them could be built with common household items. He had used them a time or two himself, mostly to create mass chaos and panic, but he knew that yes, with the right explosive and trigger, bombs as small as the box in the middle of his desk could be made.

He was standing in the doorway staring at the box-that-was-probably-a-bomb for almost five minutes before he blinked and decided screw it. He carefully approached his desk, crouching down so his eyes were level with the edge when he reached it and peering at the box from the new angle. Nope, still looked like a regular box. He circled cautiously, looking at the package from every way he could without touching it, finding nothing to indicate it was anything more than a normal, everyday box.

...Yeah, it was probably a bomb.

That meant he had two options, the first being that he left the room and came up with an excuse to cancel classes for the day, and the second that he opened the box to see if it really was a bomb and risk setting it off it was. A momentary pause to think about his choices, then he shrugged and withdrew his phone from his pocket, composing a quick text message, then hitting send. If he was going to potentially get blown up, he wanted someone to know what happened.

**There's a box on my desk. I'm pretty sure it's a bomb.**

Short, sweet, and to the point. The reply came barely a minute later.

**It's not a bomb.**

Jesus snorted a laugh; one of the best things about his fellow teacher Mizutani Sayuri finding out about his  _other_  job was that he could send texts like that and they rarely fazed her anymore. He hadn't been happy about his secret being discovered at the time, more like he'd been worried and a bit panicked, but now he was glad. It was...nice...having someone to talk to about parts of his life that he tried to keep separate from his teaching persona. He kept things vague just to be on the safe side, but it was good to let off steam by complaining to a friend about a rotten day. And it wasn't like he was the only one who took advantage of having the other's number to send vague and hilarious messages in the middle of the night. He had a special folder on his phone - triple encrypted and password protected - where he kept his favorite texts for when he needed a quick laugh, and Sayuri had told him that she had the same thing on hers. Theirs' was a special friendship, and he cherished it.

**How do you know?**

As he sent the message, he absently sat at his desk and hoped that Sayuri was right about it not being a bomb, otherwise his death would be very, very embarrassing. That demon swordsman Hijikata Mamoru would probably laugh at his funeral, the bastard.

**Just open the box. ;)**

Hm, something told him that his colleague knew something about how the box had come to be on his desk and what it contained. And it wasn't just the winking emoji that sent warning bells ringing in his head. He was even more suspicious of the package now, and he eyed it with the kind of confused dread one would give an exploding pineapple. You didn't know why someone would rig it to blow, but you knew it was going to hurt when it did. While he was looking at the box, his phone chimed an alert for another text, and when he glanced at it, he saw it was from Sayuri reminding him that class started in four minutes.

Well, that was a pointed comment if he'd ever gotten one, and he supposed it was now or never. He heaved a sigh as he pulled out a pocket knife and cut the tape holding the flaps shut with a few quick motions. Flicking the knife closed with the ease of long practice, he tucked it away and took only a second to brace himself before opening the top of the box, tensing in anticipation of an explosion of some sort. His worry was for nothing, as the box merely sat there, now open and no more threatening than when he'd first seen it. No fire, no heat, no blinding light, no nothing, not even a burst of sound or blast of confetti. It was rather anti-climatic, but since he hadn't wanted to be blown up in the first place he would take it as a win.

Peering into the open package, the first thing he saw was a card tucked against the side. Pulling it out, he read, " _Dear Fujisawa-sensei, thank you for everything._ "

It was signed by his whole class.

If asked, he would firmly deny that his eyes went misty when he read the short note. Since no one was around to see him surreptitiously wipe his eyes, his secret was safe.

A few seconds spent making sure there was no remaining moisture around his eyes, and he was ready to see what his students had left for him. Peering inside the box, the contents took a moment to register, and he was left blinking in surprise when he realized what he was looking at. "Well I'll be damned," he muttered, his awed voice soft as he slowly reached in and withdrew the coffee mug that had been carefully packed inside the container.

Newspaper - dated three days ago, he noted - crinkled as he unwrapped it from around the cup. The mug was one of those cheap, mass-produced ones you could buy almost anywhere, made of plain white ceramic and not particularly valuable. What had a slow smile spreading across his face to reach his eyes and soften his expression was what was written on the mug.

There, in plain script, were the words: World's Greatest Teacher.

Such a childish thing, that mug, like something you'd get your boss for his birthday at the last minute because you couldn't think of anything else. But it was something his students gave him, a silly, wonderful gift to show their gratitude.

He loved it.

* * *

When his students filtered in a minute later and took their seats, the first thing they noticed was the World's Greatest Teacher mug.

The beaming smiles on his students' faces lasted all through class.


End file.
